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Nom Nom

The title above is a desperate attempt at an old fashioned newspaper heading.

Are you noticing a theme here?

I’ll give you another hint…

Confused?

Perhaps I should explain….

So, my friend Kiki is obsessed with the 1992 Disney movie Newsies. And when I say obsessed, I mean obsessed. It’s one of the first things I ever knew about her. If she had her druthers, we would all be leaping around in woolen caps and argyle socks, singing the daily headlines and talking like a 13-year-old British-born Christian Bale attempting a Brooklyn accent (you need to see it, it’s sort of like The Fronz meets Dick VanDyke in Mary Poppins).

If you have never seen the movie, this might be very confusing to you. I understand. Really, I do. The truth is I have never watched the movie all the way through. It’s not that I haven’t tried, I have, I have, it’s just that I fall asleep half way through. This makes Kiki mad as a hornet. I don’t mind because she does the same thing with me and BBC’s 1995 Pride and Prejudice so we are square. Besides, Newsies is now a Broadway musical (supposed to be pretty good too) so I am going to wait to see it live before watching the movie again. Yeah, that’s it.

Last time she forced me to watch part of the movie, all I could think about was how much those leaping kids looked like cake toppers. So I made a mental note and boom, here we are, it’s Kiki’s birthday and my mental note paid off. So I went online and found some pictures of newsies on the interwebs, printed them out, taped them to pipe cleaners wrapped around fancy toothpicks and that was that.

Kiki doesn’t like much attention so she made me promise not to make her a birthday cake. So I didn’t. I made her peanut butter fudge bars instead. She likes them even better than cake. I think it’s because they make for cuter snacking.

If you have never tried it, that probably means you are not from the Midwest.

And that means it has to suck to be you right now.

In truth, I believe frozen custard is officially considered a Coney Island export…but I have been to Coney Island twice and never saw the stuff. In Missouri, however, they serve it everywhere but the the bathtub. It’s a regional summertime favorite and the good people of Missouri are kind enough to share the love all over middle America. Why the coasts, Canada and Mexico haven’t caught on, beats me. Poor suckers don’t know what they are missing.

Hear me out. I understand when some regional delicacies fail to gain wide-spread popularity (I’m looking at you, Cincinnati Chili)…but frozen custard is, well, it’s pretty much the best kept secret we have going. It’s like ice cream but better. Thicker. Tangier. Apparently it is also slightly more healthful than regular ice cream, or at least that is what I tell myself when my self-discipline is waning…

You really shouldn’t indulge today – you had salad dressing with lunch and didn’t exercise or walk hardly anywhere at all today.

Then again—you also didn’t take your vitamins this morning and custard rich in nutrients. It’s practically health food!

On the other hand—it’s loaded with sugar and butterfat.

Then again – it’s better to indulge with a small amount of something really wonderful than go home and bury your head in a six-pack box 100 calorie Snackwell cookies that you don’t even like in the first place.

On the other hand….

Oh phuck it already. Quit talking to yourself in the third person and eat the custard.

And other is buying any kind of tamale off the back of a truck from a crazy man in a Mexican wrestler mask and sequin sombrero.

Lucky for me, The Tamale Spaceship (yes, that’s what it is called) parks around the corner from my office just about every week.

Wait? You buy your lunch off the back of the truck from a crazy man in a luchador mask?

Yes.

I’m jealous. Lunch doesn’t get any better than that now does it?

Well, actually, yes. Sometimes it does; if you time it right, the Chicago Cupcake truck will park one over and you can hit your sweet tooth and your tamale tooth in one swoop. Even better, move 20′ west and you can eat it in the sunshine overlooking the Chagall. Not a bad way to spend a Friday.

I highly recommend the peanut butter cup cupcake. It has a crunchy cookie bottom and whole peanut butter cup cooked in the middle. If you can make it through the whole thing by yourself you deserve a hug.

I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure I heard it the last time I took my mangled feet to get a pedicure.

It’s true: I have ugly feet.

And half-way through sandal season (ie now) they are at their ugliest. I would show you pictures but I try to keep things wholesome around here. Sufficient to say, they are dry and rough around the edges. One of my toes spreads out all crooked and scary like E.T.’s finger. It’s not pretty.

Sit on the edge of your tub and rub on your feet for 2 minutes…rinse, dry, repeat. Boom, new feet!

Yes, there are about ten berjillion face and body scrub recipes running around Pinterest these days, but this one is better. Know why?

Coconut oil.

Yep. It’s that good.

It makes a huge difference. No, I mean that.

I had been using coconut oil soap on my hyper-sensitive/allergy/eczema-prone skin for years, but I didn’t join the official die-hard fan base until last spring. To be honest, prior to reading about the health benefits, I had the idea that coconut oil consumption was something to keep at a minimum – probably because it comes semi-solid like Crisco, and in my mind that put it in the same genre as vegetable lard, right?

Wrong.

For the money, coconut oil is just about the best thing running. It helps to prevents wrinkles, heart disease, cancer, and lowers cholesterol levels, and research links it to improvement in memory and the prevention of a multitude of other diseases.

If you are anything like me – I had you at wrinkles (yes, it’s true: coconut oil is a natural antioxidant that protects the body from free radical damage and prevents premature aging and degenerative diseases (read: your skin is going to love it)).

Did you know that multiple studies on Pacific Island populations who get 30-60 percent of their total caloric intake from fully saturated coconut oil have all shown nearly non-existent rates of cardiovascular disease?

Plus, let’s be honest; what would you give to have skin like a Hula girl?

I could go on about this for a while, but seeing as this is not a health food store and I am not the All-Knowing granola guy in the Hawaiian shirt behind the counter, I’ll just link some sources at the bottom so you can do your own research. Or, just watch this video from Doctor Oz. That guy is is so crazy. He’s like 60 something 52 and looks 22. It’s creepy how he keeps asking me to look at my own poop but I’ll listen to what he to say because, well, look at him — the dude must be doing something right.

Anyway… I have been tinkering with the idea of doing a series of posts on common household remedies for a while now, and since coconut oil is something of a wonder-elixir in my book I thought I would start out with a post devoted to the stuff.

Tame dry ends (rub a small amount between fingers and run over the end of your hair before brushing)

Rub on psoriasis and eczema plaques to help heal irritation (side note testimony: my own eczema improved significantly when I switched to coconut oil soap several years ago — far more helpful than any $100 prescription soap or tube of cream)

Eye make-up remover (added benefit — after you smear away the makeup, the residue will sit on your skin all night as a mega moisturizing eye cream)

Massage Oil

Substitute for olive oil in cooking (I have found that most of the coconut flavor disappears with exposure to heat or any sort of spices – some people are more sensitive to the taste than others, though)

Last week I mentioned how much a wanted to invite you over for margaritas and armadillo dip on the porch. And I meant it. I really would like to have you over and stuff.

However, I did not mean I would be serving you armadillo.

Please rest assured and know that, in my home, no armadillos will be hurt in the name of dip.

See, I had the impression that everyone knew what armadillo dip was. Like it was the peanut butter and jelly of hot dip or something, but apparently this is not the case. It is just me. It has other names to other people, like Rotell Dip or Cheesy Queso. I don’t know where the recipe originated or what it’s official name is, but I do know this: it’s damn good.

Armadillo Dip

One pound of ground meat, browned and seasoned. We always had it with ground beef but I have heard of people cutting back with ground turkey or chicken, or going whole hog with spicy Italian sausage. It’s a matter of preference. All I know is you brown it up and stuff.

One brick of cream cheese. Throw it on the hot meat and watch it melt. (Can I just say how much fun it was to type that sentence?)

One to two cans of 2 cans original Rotel diced tomatoes with green chiles. Use one can if you want it super rich, use two cans if you prefer it spicy. You can substitute with a jar of salsa but it’s not the same. This one occasion when I am 100% brand loyal.

Mix it all together in an extra deep frying pan and serve in a fondue pot or crock pot. That’s it.

Now, you can also use one of those fancy hot dip warmer dishes with the candle underneath, but I am going to make the assumption that if you are fancy enough to own said dish, you are probably too fancy to enjoy a good scoop of armadillo dip. I’m not trying to peg anyone here, I just know a lot about dip and dipping people. This one is a crowd pleaser, but it is not for everyone. It’s a heavy dish but not too heavy to serve in the summer with a basket of homemade chips and a margarita on the porch.

…and while you are on the porch, I highly suggest you indulge in one of life’s greatest pleasures: porch dancing. Here, Abigail and Aunt Meghan will show you how it’s done.

Summer is here and strawberry season continues. My neighborhood market is selling them cheap; two pound boxes for $3.00. They are huge, meaty berries with glossy pelts that ripple and shine like snake skin. Firm too. They seem almost unnatural. When I was a kid and we went strawberry picking, we were lucky to come back with berries much bigger than marbles, most of which would melt in the car ride home, whereas, these strawberries appear hardy enough to withstand a round of flag football, much less 30 minutes in a warm car trunk.

Beautiful as they are, their near-bionic exterior makes me wonder…

Yes, I know that any plant species can be tinkered with to improve their survival between farm and market, and that is important when it comes to keeping food affordable to the masses, but honestly, doesn’t this seem a bit much? Would it be so bad if we had to stick with those squishy, marble size strawberries?

Five yolks and two egg shells. Something isn’t right.

When I was a kid, and the teacher was explaining how the reproductive organs worked, someone in the class asked “How do twins work?” and the teacher replied “Same thing times two. It’s like a chicken laid two eggs in one shell.” and ever since that day, every time I crack an egg, I have been looking for two eggs in one shell. Never found it. Until…

Last weekend I not only found two yolks in one shell; I found three yolks in the shell right next to it. For a moment there I felt extra lucky until I got curious and cracked two more eggs and found the same thing. The whole box. All double or triple yolks. Clearly they did not all come from the same chicken; could there really be an entire farm where all the chickens lay double eggs? And if so, what do they do to the chickens to prompt such a thing? Do I want to know?

Probably not.

And that is the problem.

There is an expression that goes something like “You wouldn’t eat that hot dog if you saw how it was made.” and I know a lot of people who do not eat dogs precisely for that reason. And they are probably smart for it. But I’m not talking about hot dogs; I’m talking about strawberries. And eggs. And Lord only knows what was going on with the toast…

Some folks would never dream of frying things in their home because it’s messy and gross and makes them feel like they are living in a fast food restaurant; while some folks wouldn’t be caught dead buying a six-month-old bag of chemical laden and crispified chips in the store when they can make their own with a 39cent bag of tortillas and a quality, heart healthy oil.

Suppose it’s an old fashioned thing to do, but I genuinely like to keep a little something to nosh on. Especially dainty, festive little snacks like these salted nuts and candied chocolate eggs.

And, really, just keeping it out on the coffee table makes me feel like Nancy Reagan –ready and willing to entertain the ladies of the Junior League in a moments notice.

Ahem, of course, Nancy Reagan never kept a sports car sized pile of laundry in her living room either. But if she did, I’m pretty sure it would be because she neglected her folding duties because her fingers were dirty from noshing on all that festive candy.